bad advice Friday

I am ready. I am able to dispense with stupendously bad advice. It’s one date late because:

1) I was serving on the Neighborhood Plate Tectonics Watch.

2) I was wondering where all my orphan socks went to.

3) I spent all afternoon thinking it would be way cool to be able to walk on the ceiling.

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TLR asks: Should I put a nasty note on this truck?

Dear TLR: No, as tempting as that might be, you can’t out puswad a puswad. Unless, of course, you have access to a particle accelerator. First, rent a large tow truck. Put the puswad’s truck on the tow truck. You might need to buy and speed read, The Complete Freaking Moron’s Guide to Operating a Tow Truck. You should also buy, The Complete Freaking Moron’s Guide to Speed Reading. Okay, the offending truck is ready to be towed.

Drive your tow truck to a site with a large particle accelerator. Ask to be let in. Note: your chances of success go up if you say please and thank you. If they say no, you can probably bash down the gate with your heavy tow truck. One inside, get the mean person’s truck into the particle accelerator. You will have to work quickly if you bashed down the gate. Press the button marked, “Accelerate,” and whoosh, the meanie’s truck will soon reach a velocity close to the speed of light. Any collision between the truck and particle accelerator’s walls will disintegrate the truck. Sweep up the atomized bits of truck–cleanliness is always in style–and go back to the parking lot. Place the back of atomized truck pits where the truck originally took up four spots. Add a sign that reads, “Next time it will be you that gets atomized if you park like a jerk.” Now that will get the jerk’s attention.

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KD asks: Will it ever be acceptable to openly roll one’s eyes when one sees someone do something ridiculous like hold up entering the bus to finish a text? O_O

Dear KD: Oh yes, it already is. However, just rolling your eyes is no longer enough. The texting doofus needs to be taught a lesson. Simply throw a loosely wrapped package of lutefisk, five pounds should be heavy enough, at the texter. The force and stench of the hurled lutefisk will knock him backwards and onto the sidewalk. He’ll a nasty bump on his head that he’ll never forget. Don’t worry about the people on the bus. They’ll be happy that the bus will no longer be delayed. They’ll also never have to smell that lutefisk again. It’s a win-win outcome for everyone.

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CA asks: What is the sound of one hand clapping?

Dear CA: The metal thingy hanging from the metal of a giant six-foot high church bell is called a clapper. This is your clue. Simply climb up the side of a church–the Spanish missions in California are good places to try–and get inside. You’ll need to wear clothes that match the color of the church’s walls or you’ll be spotted and stopped. Once inside the bell, smash your hand into the side of the bell. The sound you’ll hear before becoming permanently deaf will be the sound of one hand clapping.

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CC asks: What’s a good date plan for a couple that have been married for over 30 years?

Dear CC: After 30 years, you’ve probably done every possible type of date there is. Except, sky diving over an active volcano. Hire a pilot to fly you over the center of the lava spurting volcano. You might have to ask around a lot before you find one willing to do this. Be persistent.

Simply strap on your parachutes and jump out the plane. Be sure to wait for the pilot’s signal. Safety, as always, is important. When the time is right, pull the cord and your parachute will deploy. Did you take parachuting lessons? I hope so. Twist so that at the last moment you will veer away from the death-vomiting volcano.

Is this dangerous? Yes, it is. But if all goes well, you and your sweetheart will have drawn closer together, your love forged even stronger by fire. And sitting close to each other on a couch looking longingly into each other’s eye will be just what you’ll want to do for the rest of your lives.

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MA asks: If you write a book about failure and it doesn’t sell, would it be a success?

Dear MA: I’m not equipped to answer such a deep philosophical question. But the Tibetan monks would be. Now, the Chinese government is really a super huge dictatorship. Millions of members are in the ruling Communist party. I wouldn’t be surprised at all, really, if Guinness Book of RecordsTM lists the Chinese government as the biggest dictatorship ever.

Anyway, being a dictatorship and all, the Chinese government tries real hard to suppress all discontent against them. They are indeed very thorough about this. And it’s an atheistic ruling body as well. So, it’s real hard to believe they’d let you see a monk. So you’ll have sneak your way to one.

Two possibilities exist. First, fly to Shanghai. Slip by customs without being noticed. May I suggest pointing at the sky and yelling, “Look, Halley’s comet!” Continue to be invisible as you ride trains and busses to a monastery. Ask a monk. Get an answer. Revel in the enlightenment before sneaking your way back home. Second. fly to Bombay, now Mumbai. Take the train to the Tibetan border. Hire a Sherpa guide. Bring oxygen canisters to help you breathe as you cross the Himalayas. Oh and a warm fur parka will help you with the intense cold. Don’t forget to watch for bullets. The Chinese and Indian armies are currently skirmishing with each other. As above, get your answer and come back home.

I am ready. I am able to dispense with stupendously bad advice only one date late because:

1) I had a spasm of productivity.
2) I am holding an ice-cold root beer.
3) I am caught up with laundry.

So, I shall once more be dispensing stupendously bad advice.

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CC asks: How can I sing if I’ve lost my voice?

Dear CC: You need to buy an iLarynxTM. Download songs to your iLarynx. Then carefully open your throat with a sharp, sterilized knife. Note, I cannot stress this enough, this self surgery is dangerous without proper sterilization. After the iLarynx is safely and comfortably placed in your throat, sew up with a thin thread. The color of the thread should match the color of your skin. I would also like to recommend purchasing the thread before performing the surgery. You only have maybe ten minutes before you lose consciousness due to loss of blood. It’s doubtful you’d be able to get to the store and back in time, especially if there’s some oaf with thirty items in the ten-items-or fewer line who also insists paying with exact change.

If you forgot to download songs to your iLarynx before surgery, may I recommend downloading songs via Wifi? If you don’t have Wifi, I suggest getting the service. Making a small hole in your throat to attach a cable from your computer seems like a false economy.

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RAS asks: I’m going on the Atkins diet. Should I put my dalmatian dog Trotsky in charge of the shopping because he likes protein and fat?

Dear RAS: Absolutely, as there apparently little evidence that the low-carbohydrate Atkins diet does anything useful at all. It would probably be safer to follow Claude Akins’ diet. Unfortunately while a superb, forceful actor, Mr. Akins never got around to publishing a cookbook. So, by default, you’ll have to follow the example of your dog and who doesn’t like dogs? Also, there is an elegant simplicity in a dog’s diet of meat which you don’t even have to cook if you don’t want to. (A side benefit of not cooking is saving money on a stove.) And don’t forget dog biscuits. Dog biscuits are so hard that they naturally grind away any plaque on your teeth. No plaque, no dental visits and who likes to go to the dentist?

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MA asks: Should I look under a toadstool for some grub?

Dear MA: It’s a lot better to look under toadstools for grub than at the toadstool itself as toadstools are often poisonous. Mushrooms look a lot like toadstools, but are not directly poisonous. Mushrooms are, however, yucky and icky beyond belief. Indeed mushrooms are quite possibly the fungus of the Devil. Do not, do not, eat mushrooms. If you do, your soul becomes his and you will go to Hell for all eternity. Enough said.

So you should instead look under the toadstool for sustenance, but what would you find there? A few twigs perhaps. A roly poly, if your lucky and are a meat eater. However, rolly pollys are best eaten at a sushi restaurant, where its taste is only displayed to its greatest advantage by a trained chef. And do you have a rolly polly sushi bar near you? I think not.

Far better than a rolly polly is the magnificent taco. The taco is God’s food and possesses magical, healing properties. Go get yourself a taco and be satisfied, healthy, and virtuous. Perhaps there’s a taco shop right around the block from you. If you live in northern Greenland, you’re screwed.

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JL asks: What should I do to earn some quick cash? *GULP*

Dear JL: You are so close to having a great idea. Everybody loves Seven ElevenTM’s Big GulpTM. Indeed soft drink sizes keep going up and up. One soda cup at a convenience, a hard word to spell, got so big that you had to hold onto two ropes to carry it. Clearly there is a big interest in drinking big sodas. However, most people are unable to drink that much soda. But we would pay big interest in watching people try.

So simply form your own Big Soda Drinking League (BSDL.) Collect corporate sponsorships. Let their money come rolling in. In the meantime, before the season starts, go into training by drinking ever and ever larger amounts of soda in one sitting. Go for the gold. Excelsior! That or pole dancing.

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TLH asks: Should I adapt Paul De Lancey recipes to be vegetarian friendly?

Dear TLH: Absolutely, any recipe by Paul De Lancey is fantastic. The easiest way to make his recipes vegetarian friendly is start with a recipe that’s already vegetarian. This is the sort of thing that seems obvious only after someone says it.

Alternatively, go to the store and buy vegetarian substitutes for various meats. Some of these substitutes are good, some are okay, and some taste like soap. They are, however, uniformly expensive. How expensive? You’ll have to take up robbing banks. Be careful, though, about serving vegetarian substitutes to law enforcement. They’ll take it as a sign of you living way beyond your means and start investigating you.

KM asks: Okay, here goes. Do you consider Alfred Hitchcock a great man? See more.

Dear KM: Oh crudness, I cut and pasted from FB and lost the end of your questions or question. This vexes me greatly. I mean I might accidently give you good advice and then what would happen to my sacred rep? But I am nothing if not courageous, so here goes. You shouldn’t take my word for it. My opinion is only one opinion. It’s best to give the souls from the Great Beyond a chance to weigh in. Flip a coin. If it comes up heads, a dearly departed has voted yes. If it lands tails, then a spirit has said no. Don’t flip just a few times. That’s not statistically significant. Besides, there’s not a lot to do in the afterworld. So, just by asking the souls to vote, you’ll have brightened their lives (See what I did?) something considerable. I suggest flipping that coin at least 100,000 times.

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LF: How many ducks are in a row?

Dear LF: Go to the nearest pond with hundreds of ducks. Throw a piece of bread into the pond. Hurl the next piece near the shore. Toss the third bread cube on land. And so on, until you have hundreds of ravenous, fierce ducks snapping at your feet and heels in a crazed quest to get more food. Then simply turn around and herd them into a row. (You did watch Rawhide and Babe didn’t you?) Count quickly as ducks as notoriously impatient. Oh, and don’t forget to say please and thank you. As with all aquatic mammals, manners are important.

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DH asks: How do I keep my dog from rolling in dead possum?

Dear DH: Your dog clearly has a preferred scent. A refined one. So, if you want to keep your dog away from dead possums, you will have to spray that scent on something that you don’t want anymore like underwear with skid marks. Simply spray the “Dead Possum Scent” on the underwear. Kinda weird put at least arguably healthier that wallowing in dead possum. As of now, no major perfume company produces this scent. I suggest writing a certified, signature-required letter to the CEO of ChanelTM. They’ll be excited to hear from you.

I am ready. I am able to dispense with stupendously bad advice on time because:

1) Plate tectonics was not as bad this week as it was last week.
2) I am one with the universe.
3) Taco forces are advancing all over the glove.

So, I shall once more be dispensing stupendously bad advice.

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LF asks: Why can’t I fly?

Dear LF: You can! You can! You just need a giant slingshot. How big? Oh, about ten yards wide. You will, of course, need a lot of strong men to pull back the sling shot for you. Go to a biker bar and set up your slingshot between two trees. Then run over all their Harley DavidsonsTM several times with a pickup truck. Go into the bar and yell, “Hey wooses, I destroyed your hogs with my pickup trucks. Na na na poo poo!” It’s important to say “na na na poo poo.” They will certainly chase you out the door after that. Place yourself in the slingshot’s pocket, point to the smashed motorcycles, and say, “Hey wooses, what are you going to do about that?” They will certainly pull the slingshot back as far as they can. The joke will be on them however because you will fly through the air when they release. Oh, and I wouldn’t bother going back to whatever will be left of your truck. But you will have flown. And double oh, wear a helmet. Safety first and all that.

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SF asks: How do you pronounce covfefe?

Dear SF: Just like it looks.

Dear SF: Don’t listen to that advice. Change one in a song to covfefe. For example, change the song “Mariah” in Paint Your Wagon to “Covfefe.” “Covfefe, covfefe, they call the wind, Covfefe.” Then change “Shipoopi” from The Music Man to “Covfefe.” Do this for all sorts of songs, new ones too like “Hello” by Adele. Then go around home, work, and shopping, singing these songs one after another. Your covfefe song that gets the most people to grab their heads and yell, “Augh! I can’t get that song out of my head” will be right pronunciation of covfefe.

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SF asks: If I swallow my head, is that good Karma?

Dear SF: I am guessing it’s bad Karma as what you will be attempting will come back to bite you. See what I did there? But seriously, you really will choke yourself to death if you try to swallow your head. Your head is simply much too large to go down your throat in one piece. You will need to devour your head in several pieces. Plus swallowing your entire head is a severe breach of etiquette. A little bit a time, that way you won’t get noticed. And if you’re going to eat your head, I really suggest sautéing it in olive oil with minced onion and garlic cloves. Finally, look at the color of your skin. A light skinned head pairs with a white wine, champagne even if this is a festive occasion and a red wine if you’re dark skinned. Go ahead splurge on an good, expensive wine as this will be a once in a lifetime experience.

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LF asks: Can a stupid person be a smart ass?

Dear LF: This is tough one for me. Best get expert advice. Fortunately this is easy to do. Simply join the Marine Corps. This will entail a four-year commitment–Boy, that word is toughie to spell isn’t it?–but you’re on a quest for knowledge and such trifles shouldn’t deter you. Your drill instructor will give you an order on your very first day. He will then ask you, “Any questions?” This is your opportunity to ask, “Can a stupid person be a smart ass?” The knowledgeable sergeant will tell you loud and clear. Indeed, your inquisitive nature will so capture the heart of the drill instructor that he will pay special attention to you. His thoughtfulness will make basic training go by in no time.

1) Work took longer than expected.
2) I was helping a friend.
3) I dislocated my shoulder. (It popped back in this morning.)

So, I shall once more be dispensing stupendously bad advice. As a bonus, it is untimely as well.

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ME asks: Should I focus my efforts on writing, jewelry making, art, accounting, or Amazon prime deliveries by dog sled? What will reap the greatest financial and personal reward?

Dear ME: The markets for writing, jewelry, making, art, and accounting are quite clogged with competition. Brilliant as you are, you must find a niche market that employs all your talents. Simply make artistic jewelry, then etch your novels on them. You will have to write small. Instead of books taking 423 pages, your magnum opuses will require 1,623 rings or 421 bracelets. This endeavor can’t fail to make you millions. Just imagine, a man gives his sweetheart a gold ring, platinum even. She oohs and aahs over the ring’s beauty. The man gets lucky. Next morning, she reads your wring. She becomes entranced, then she gets to the cliffhanger. She must read more. She pesters her man until she gets another of your rings. She loves this ring’s understated elegance and again loves your writing, as who would not? The man gets lucky once more. He sees a pattern. He encourages his love to ask for another ring. She eagerly agrees. Soon he has bought all 1,623 rings and they have 17 kids. You will have grossed $1,623,000 in sales to the energizer-bunny man. Naturally, he will have had to sell cocaine to pay for the rings, but maybe he was tired of his old job. Of course, you will be making so much money that you will need all of your accountant training to keep track. And yes, you should deliver all your novel jewelry by dog sled. The press will love it; you will get free publicity. The public will think the dog-sled delivery so cute that they will order your jewelry just to see the dog sleds come to their doors. These new customers will be hooked by your cliff-hanger writing and will buy and buy and buy. I don’t see a downside to this.

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MK states: I can’t… I just… can’t.

Dear MK: Yes you can. You need a chant, a mantra if you will, to give yourself a positive outlook. May I suggest chanting, “I know I can, I know I can, I know I can.” Changing your attitude doesn’t happen immediately. You must chant this mantra all day long no matter whether you find yourself in a stall in a public restroom, or positioning a dentist’s drill towards your patient in your office. Eventually, you’ll feel better. I guarantee it.

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MA asks: I can? I have always wondered if one synchronized swimmer drowns, why the other ones don’t too? Please advise…

Dear MA: The other synchronized swimmers better darn well drown as well or the team will receive horrible scores from the judges. How synchronized–gosh, synchronized is hard to spell– is it to have one swimmer drown and not the others? Not at all. It’s an all-or-nothing sort of thing, like the Three Musketeers motto of “All for one and one for all.” Those swordsmen certainly knew how to impress judges with their synchronized sword fighting. And for goodness sake, remember that judges don’t care in the slightest, if the drowning team member is saying “Good bye, cruel world,” having a heart attack, or offing himself for his creative independence. If you don’t immediately synchronize your routine to this extemporaneous event, you will get zeroes from the judges. Then you really will want to kill yourself. You might as well kill yourself in competition and leave this world in a blaze of glory.

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BRW asks: Relax . . . We’re all crazy. It’s not a competition. Is this true?

Dear BRW: It is certainly not true. Murders and terrorists thrive on the adrenaline and the notoriety they get from being the craziest. And they surely are crazy. Would they kill people if no one noticed? Heck no. They know the rule, “No style, no attention.” At one time, people considered pie throwers to be the craziest people. The world was at peace, happy even. The motion pictures took over and did the pie-throwing thing to death. Pie throwers were no longer deemed the craziest. People desiring the title of “Mr. Craziest” gravitated to murders. That worked fine for a while. Then other people joined in and just killing someone just wasn’t considered all that crazy anymore. So, people started offing people in larger numbers and more dramatic ways. This is all bad. This is where you step in, BRW. Come up with a non-violent activity that is even crazier than murder and terrorism. The news media will cover only you, the new King of Crazy. Soon those mass killers will seem suddenly so blah. No one will pay them any attention. The masters of mass murders will go home and sulk and stare at their ceiling for years at a time. The world will thank you for this. I see a Nobel Peace Prize in your future.

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LHH asks: What’s that crawling through your hair?

Dear LHH: That’s a great lyric for a song. Look what a great lyric and title, “Hey Children, What’s That Sound” did for Buffalo Springfield. He became a hit singer. Your lyric is also so so similar to Bob Dylan’s “the answer is blowing in the wind.” Mr. Dylan became incredibly successful. I’m confident that if you build a song around “What’s that crawling through your hair?” you too will become a superstar singer. Now the only fly in the ointment is that if you suffer from writer’s block and cannot think of additional lyrics. Should this happen to your, simply walk up to as many strangers as possible and ask them, “What’s that crawling through your hair?” I’m positive you’ll garner many rich and lengthy responses. In no time, you’ll have written your hit song. Go platinum, LHH!

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WK asks: I’ve submitted questions before but have never received a response. So what’s the point?

Dear WK: I have answered at least one of your questions. Please click on the following link, https://pauldelancey.com/2017/05/20/bad-advice-friday-1-may-20-2017/. Honestly, this question is almost enough to make me give you neutral words of wisdom, if not downright good advice. Be that as it may, you should never give up your quest for bad advice. Acting on bad advice provides the witnesses of your crazed activity with a welcome diversion from their boring existence. You know you haven’t been brightening peoples lives if you’ve never had to occasion to say, “Hey, watch me do this.” And if you haven’t brightened peoples lives, the terrorists win. My job is to provide you with a “watch me do this” activity, but I can only do so when you ask. Oh, and I blame missing any questions from you on plate tectonics.

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KGV asks: What is the proper etiquette when entertaining Russian spies in your office?

Dear KGV: I’m glad you used the phrase “proper etiquette” in your question. Good manners are always in style whether you’re holding the door open for your mother or entertaining spies bent on destroying your country’s democracy. Always be courteous. This means saying things like “thanks for coming,” “nice tie,” “what a beautiful dress,” “some caviar, perhaps,” and would you like some alone time in my communications room?” At no time should you broach unpleasant topics such as their invasion of the Ukraine or their support for that brutal dictator in Syria. That would be a faux pas. Word would get around or people would stop coming to your soirees. And wouldn’t that make you feel bad?

Oh my gosh, I was sick and missed Friday. Whatever healthy time I was spent making macaroni and cheese and watch Number Two Son get a second degree black belt. Anyway, yesterday was Friday. And today is Saturday. Sometimes, it’s good advice to get all the facts on paper before starting to think. But not here. Even though my advice is one day late, I shall once more be dispensing stupendously bad advice.

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KM asks: Nature vs. nurture: Was Donald Trump born a narcissistic, racist idiot (in which case he can’t help himself), or did he have to work to develop those traits? Has anyone researched his ancestors?

Dear KM: Why not ask him directly? Invite him over for a barbecue. Now, he has expensive tastes, so you’ll have to buy the very best grill to impress him. Of course, you’ll have to get top-of-the-line accessories to go along with your grill, such as five-acre patio and a fifty-room mansion. You will, to be sure, be shelling out millions upon millions to set up this event, but Mr. Trump will come over and you will find out what makes him tick.

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LF asks: Why can’t I make myself invisible?

Dear LF: You can! You can! Get a ten-foot high by twenty-foot long canvas. Spray paint it bright red. All over. Spray paint yourself bright red. All over. Always stand in front of the bright red canvas. It’ll be red on red. No one will ever see you with all that red. However, and this is import, never ever step out from the red canvas. People will be able to spot you in an instant. You will need to hire at least four burly to move the canvas at the same rate you walk. Of course, should you require motorized transportation, you and your canvas will need to stand in the back of a flat-bed truck.

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WK asks: When invited to a dinner party is it ok to ask the hostess what color napkins she’ll be using so I can wear a matching shirt?

Dear WK: OMG! OMG! Of course not, this is a faux pas of the first magnitude. Do you want to
never again be invited to a party will colored napkins? Fortunately, the answer to this social dilemma is dazzlingly simple. Wear every possible color of shirt, one shirt on top of each other. This will require entering your host’s house wearing twenty shirts. When the hosts why so many shirts, tell her you’re afraid of catching a chill and that it takes you two weeks to get over a cold. Take a quick glance at the napkins. Point in the other direction and yell as loud as you can, “Look! Halley’s Comet.” While people are looking for the comet, removes your shirts until you get to the one with the right color. This will leave you with a lot of discarded shirts. Quickly roll them up into balls and start juggling. The host and her guests will appreciate you thoughtful entertainment and will think nothing when you put your “equipment” in the coat room.

Now, it’s important to remember you will still be wearing nine or ten shirts. You’ll will be quite hot. Look at the large shrimp display in the center of the table. Say, “My, the shrimp arrangement is stunning, beautiful, what artistry! Mrs Host, you have outdone yourself.” While the host and the guest take in the wondrous arrangement, pour as many glasses of ice water inside your innermost shirt. You’ll be fine.

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LHH asks: Which goes first: the chicken, or the egg?

Dear LHH: It’s a frustrating question, isn’t it? There’s no used asking the chickens; they’re tight lipped. (See, what I did there?) No, you’ll have to conduct extensive research. 100,000,000 eggs and chickens ought to be sufficient. Won’t buying that many eggs and chickens cost a lot? It sure will! At least a billion dollars. How do you get that much cash? Simple, build a nuclear missile and launch pad in your garage. Now, there is a dearth of self-help books when it comes to at-home construction of such weapons, so you will have to rely heavily on trial and error. Should you survive, and you need to be an optimist if you’re ever going to amount to anything, start blackmailing the world with a nuclear holocaust until you get your billion. Kim Jong Un, the leader of North Korea has been blackmailing the world with his nukes. He hasn’t received a penny in blackmail money, but bless his heart, he keeps trying. You’ve got to admire his never say die spirit.

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KM asks: Is it polite to give a Trump supporter a Bronx cheer?

Dear KM: Only if you asked politely first. Manners are always in style. Ask the Trump supporter, “Excuse sir, or ma’am, nice day isn’t? I was wondering, if it’s all the same to you, may I give you a Bronx cheer? If he says yes, it just might be the start of a wonderful friendship as in the final scene in Casablanca with Humphrey Bogart and Claude Rains. However, if the oaf breaks you nose in reply, then you will have taken the high road in manners and you can feel proud of yourself until you pass out. Either way, you win.

Oh my gosh. It’s Friday already. Did you know there’s one every week? So, I shall once more be dispensing bad advice As usual, the advice will stupendously bad.
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JW asks: Should I really call my mom, or get her a gift or card, or visit her, or any of those other mother’s day things?

Dear JW: I think you should give the Mothers’ Day of Benedict Cummerbund. He’s handsome as anything, he’s rich, he has a career, what more could mother want? Ask Benadryl Cuminpatch if he’d like to spend the rest of his life with Mom. You’ll have to ask Benpicked Cucumber nicely as he is, as indeed all celebrities, used to people gushing up to him. If a lifetime commitment is too much, would he be willing to do whatever Mom wanted for one day. Should he complain of lost income from his movies, you’ll just have to rob banks until you’ve accumulated $100 million. Oh, and a grilled cheese sandwich. Make sure the cheese is gruyère. Celebrities have expenses tastes. This will be a Mothers’ Day Mom will never forget.

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SL Red, purple, or green?

Dear SL: The White House has been that uninspired white ever since its construction. I applaud your desire to spiff up the world’s most recognized building, to give it some character, to have some fun. Since, the color of the Republican party is often thought to be red, it would good to paint the White House red. I strongly suggest using spray paint for the job as the Secret Service is not going to give you much time to do a professional job with a roller and a paint brush. Indeed, they apt to be rather cross with you while hauling you away to ask such questions such as, “How did you get over the fence and so close to the White House without being spotted?” You’ll be able to answer with, “Why I went to the nearest circus and bought a cannon from the Human Cannonball. I then shot myself and my paint.” Maybe that will impress them. It’s worth a shot. (See what I did there?)

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JCA asks: Mayo, or Miracle Whip? Not for food, but for bedroom fun. (Asking for a friend).

Dear JCA: My natural inclination as a chef is to suggest mayonnaise as it is a purer food and less likely to be a chemical sh*tstorm. Indeed, try to get mayonnaise with all natural ingredients. Let’s keep our planet green. However in this case, spreadability and lubrication will be prized more than it would be in making a tuna sandwich, I suggest the scientific method. Have two bedroom romps with each volunter. Ask them if they preferred the mayonnaise experience or the one with Miracle WhipTM. You might need hundreds of volunteer partners before you become quite confident in your results. Should you have a spouse who balks at your scientific zeal, you might need to present your sweetheart with a nice box of chocolates and some lovely flowers when asking their permission. Oh, and make sure you always use fresh mayonnaise and Cool Whip. You don’t want to get false responses from your volunteers because you used something rancid. Check those expiration dates.

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KGV states: Thanks for the reminder. Being retired, I easily forget which day of the week we are celebrating.

Dear KGV: It is easy to forget the day of the week, isn’t it? Buy yourself a $600 cell phone, one that shows the day of the week. You don’t have to use the phone for anything. If opening the cell phone just to find the day of the week seems a bit weird, hire a butler. The butler will follow you around and will be pleased to tell what day it is no how many times you ask.

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LF asks: Why do ticks tick?

Dear LF: Not all ticks tick, only the explosive ones. Explosiveness was a defensive trait evolved by ticks during the Cretaceous period. Ticks of that time were forever getting trampled underfoot by tyrannosaurus rexes hot on the pursuit of a brontosaurus burger. A tick scout would raise the alarm whenever a T-rex approached. The explosive ticks would rush the killer dinosaur and explode themselves. The explosion would kill the tyrannosaurus, but the rest of the tick colony would be saved. Sure it would take a lot of ticks to fell a mighty Rex, but holy moly, there are a boatload of ticks. There’s a practical use to this as well. North Korea has not acting at all neighborly lately. To help the world, get on the plane to North Korea with a carry-on bag full of explosive ticks. Don’t worry about TSA, the ticks aren’t metallic and aren’t even on any list of prohibited items. The North Koreans, being a wary sort, might ask you what’s in your bag. They might even open your bag and ask, “What are those ticks doing?” You should say, “I don’t know. Do ticks talk?” (See what I did there?) Then head to the nearest military installation, the one where you can do the most damage. Tell the ticks that those North Korean missiles or fighter planes are T-Rexes. The ticks will blow up the entire installation or base. Oh I forgot, the North Korea security is a distrustful lot. Try to blend in as you make your way through the countryside.

Oh my gosh. There was a Friday this week. So, I shall once more be dispensing bad advice As usual, the advice will stupendously bad. Sorry, it’s a day late. I was whooping it up on my birthday. So, you had an extra day to do things right.

SF asks: If I pour boiling water on my face to help me wake up in the morning, will the power outlet I’ve plugged my toe into electrocute me?

Dear SF: The scientific method is a must. Try plugging your toe into an outlet. If that act alone electrocutes you then you’ll know, if only for a brief moment. If however, nothing happens then try the boiling water on your face. Should you survive electrocution after this second step, take heart in the knowledge you won’t need to take a shower. The germs and bacteria won’t survive the hot deluge.

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LHH asks: I wanna know: Who’ll stop the rain?

Dear LHH: Congress can, but they won’t. They’re too busy with health care, fund raising, and vacations to tackle this problem head on. Ask your congressman to support the building of mile-wide umbrellas. Or as more promising research suggests, get them to provide seed money for the building of five-mile-high fans that will blow rain from areas that don’t need it to ones that do. Call your representative today. They love to get citizen input.

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RTC asks: I want to go to a viewing and funeral of a family member. It is 8 hours driving round trip. I can barely stay awake 2 hours in a moving car. Should I stay home or should I go? No one else is able to go with me and share the driving.

Dear RTC: This is a toughie. Family duties push you to go, but you don’t want to crash and die. I mean how many people want to go to back-to-back funerals. No, the thing to do is ask your relatives to catapult the deceased to your home. Pay your respects. Catapult the body back as I strongly suspect the dearly departed will be buried where all the mourners are. Iimportant, don’t forget to send a condolences card! Manners are always in style. There is a small silver lining in all this. Enclose your condolences card with the deceased before catapulting back. A penny saved is a penny earned.

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MA asks: “I am” is reported to be the shortest sentence in the English language. Could it be “I do” is the longest? Please advise…

Dear MA: Clearly, your problem is that your irresistible. So they say yes to you. But relationships are hard; hard as cheese that’s been left out for two weeks and perhaps just as moldy. You need to cut down on your attractivetudinous. Experiment. Grow dreadlocks. Some women hate them. If that special someone adores that hair style, consider wearing a tutu. Don’t give up. Keep trying. If however, she hopelessly dotes on you, you’ll have to rub lutefisk all over your body. The stench will drive away even the most ardent lover. There is a chance, however, the odor might be so bad that you’ll tear your own head off. That’s okay; this act also solves the problem of your overpowering desirability.

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WK asks: Where have all the flowers gone? Long time passing.

Dear WK: They’re in Greenland. What with global warming, conditions there are now favorable for flowers. Not many flower munching bunnies there either. So for decades now, flowers have been slowly migrating to Greenland. We simply been too busy, what with our hectic lifestyle, to notice. Go to your local travel agent to book a Greenland tour. Do it today. Herds of feral flowers are sights that will make your soul sing.

Oh my gosh. It’s Friday. So, I shall once more be dispensing bad advice As usual, the advice will stupendously bad. You know it will be so as I had overwritten the file with my previous answers and to re-answer. I mean how can you trust advice from a person who does that?

JBL asks: Will this be on the test?

Dear JBL: Yes, it will. Unfortunately, you don’t know what test. I strongly urge you to go to every school you can and take every test. If you don’t answer the question, you will get a zero for it. Indeed if you miss the test completely, you’ll fail the test and fail the course, and get kicked out of your university. And you paid a lot of money getting into that university. You won’t graduate. There will go your dream of becoming an astronaut and of being the first person on Mars. Oh, and here’s foolproof way of acing every test. Simply tattoo every fact and theorem you’ve run across onto your body. Now it’s quite possible, that the tattooed answer will be under your clothes. In this case, you’ll have to strip. If the teacher complains, say you’re allergic to clothes. If the answer is on your butt, ask the student behind you (See what I did there?) to read the answer. Ask nicely; manners are always in fashion.

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MA asks: Can yard bunnies do multiplication problems?

Dear MA: Oh yes. But they’re shy. They just don’t talk to anyone. You have to gain their trust. You have to get down to their level. This means crawling up to them and feeding them pellets. Rabbits are terrified if they talk to people as they fear by doing will stop the supply of pellets. So talk to them in a soothing voice. Tell them that you will provide gourmet pellets if they solve multiplication problems for you. This is known in economics as incentivizing the bunny.

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RAS asks: How do I teach my dog Trotsky to play chess?

Dear RAS: You must learn to speak dog. This is not as hard as it might seem given the smallness of the canine vocabulary when compared to English. Conjugating verbs verb in Dog is much easier than in Dog than in English and, my gosh, much easier than in French. To illustrate, for “Am Hungry.”

English:
I am hungry.
You are hungry.
It is hungry.
We are hungry.
They are hungry.

Note there are six different conjugations in French: ai, as, a, avons, avez, and ont. English is easier with only three different conjugations: am, are, and is. However, Dog conjugation for “am hungry” has an elegant simplicity to it.

Dog:
Woof!

There are no cases for you (familiar or polite), for we, it, or they. That makes learning the dog vocabulary easy. Indeed the word, “woof,” is the words for literally dozens of nouns and verbs. Dog convey meaning by intoning their “woof” differently for each instance. You will need to practice your canine intonations and indeed, inflections as well. Get practicing.

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LF asks: Why can’t pigs fly?

Dear LF: They can! They can! You just need a big enough catapult. Try getting your catapult at CostcoTM; they carry everything. Get your catapult while you can. As of press time, there’s no government regulation about flinging pigs great distances in your neighborhood, but how long can that last given the government has seen fit to regulate commercial aviation.

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BRW asked: I point a red laser light at the neigbhor’s blinds when they are gone. The cats destroy the blinds chasing the red dot. Am I evil? (Taken from a meme.)

Dear BRW: Only if your neighbors are annoying. And if they’re annoying to you, they’re likely to be annoying to others on your street as well. In this case, wait until your irritating neighbors leave their house with lit candles. Point the laser beam at the candle. The cats will attack the red dot on the candle. The candle will fall to the ground. The rug will catch fire. The house will burn down. The neighbors will leave. (Gosh, neighbors is a hard word to spell. Another reason to see them go.) It’s much better to be proactive like this then to let your resentment against them fester into something serious. That benefits no one.

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LHH asks: Over the top, or under the weather: which is best for a Hump day? And are there differences by season?

Dear LHH: If you want to be over the top for weather, you need to go to the North Pole. But with global warming, you can’t guarantee solid ice for your lawn chair. On the other hand, you could be the first person to surf the pole. In contrast, you’ll under the weather at the South Pole. While the South is over a mile thick layer of ice, it is under the Earth. There is nothing underneath you. Nothing! You’ll fall. You see because of gravity, everything falls down. At the South Pole, there is no more down. The scientists at this pole meet this existential threat by constructing buildings. The ceilings on these upside down buildings prevent the people there from falling off the planet. The fear, however, persists as in this line from an angst-filled song, “Put our hands in the air like the ceiling can’t hold us.” Some polar scientists hew to a more devil-may care philosophy as evidenced by the line, “dancing on the ceiling.” If you must go outside when at the South Pole, you must, must wear boots with VelcroTM soles and stay on the Velcro paths. Otherwise, you fall off the Earth. This is true for Hump day, the other days of the week, and for the two seasons of day and night. The Laws of Physics never sleep.

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LF states: A question for Bad Advice Friday? I can’t think. (This is from memory. I overwrote the file where I answered this.)

Dear LF: Thinking is overrated. Millions of people in a few select professions never think, politicians and human billiard balls (A surprisingly popular sport) come to mind. But if you’re really having trouble thinking and would like to start again, I have two suggestions. First, join the French Foreign Legion. You’ll have plenty of undisturbed time to conjure up a thought as you’re marching under the hot Saharan Sun. However, as people join the Legion to forget, you’ll immediately forget what idea you created. But you will have started thinking again and that’s the main thing. Second, commit a crime, a crime so horrible that you will be spending years in solitary confinement. The serene, tranquil, undisturbed aura of your own is enormously conducive to thought. Try it and see!